I've been a grouchy groucherson today. I don't know what the deal is. I suppose I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I started the day off on the wrong foot by getting to work a little later than I like getting there. I didn't have that much to do this morning, but I still like to get there no later than 7:15. I didn't quite make it until about 7:40. It isn't as if I HAVE to be there that early, or that I have anybody to answer to, but I just like to have a lot of solo time before the morning crew shows up. Wednesdays are always a thorn in my side, so it just messes me up to be there that late.
Things were going along pretty well, despite my grouchiness, until....
These dickholes came all the way back to the restaurant to complain about their take-out food. I don't mind remaking something if it really is messed up, but these people. Grrrrrrr. One of their complaints was that their fries were cold when they got wherever it is they went. Yeah, guess what? Fries get cold quickly. Especially when you carry them away on foot, and the outside temperature is 40 degrees. They also complained that their buns were soggy. I dunno. You folks tell me. They ordered the burger that gets slaw, mustard and chili. In its very nature, that's a sloppy and soggy sandwich. We created it to be that way.
All grousing aside, I remade the food and waited till the last second to cook their fries so they would be glowing hot. Turns out when they were in the restaurant the first time, they paid for their food in loose change, and they sat there for what the bartender described as "ten minutes" counting out pennies and nickels. Not even the courtesy of a quarter. Meanwhile, their food was growing icicles as it sat in front of them. Sure, sure, change is legal tender, but when you come to a decent restaurant and pay with a sackful of pennies, you're being a pain in the ass. Maybe 104 pennies will cut it at the Wendy's 99 cent value menu, but 1500 pennies is retarded. When you follow this with silly complaints, you're just being an ass clown.
If you've never worked in the industry before, there is a category of person that loves to issue complaints about their restaurant experience no matter where they go. Even when they're wrong. Actually, there's two categories: the type that just loves to complain to restaurant managers because it makes them feel important; and the type who go from place to place attempting to never pay for a meal. These categories aren't defined by any particular gender, or race, or religion, or age group, or economic background. Somehow, though, you can usually spot them as soon as they walk through the door. The complainers.
Sort of on the same topic, some of my favorite idiotic complaints (these are all real) over the years have been
- "My salmon has a really fishy taste to it"
- "This gazpacho is, um, cold. Could you heat it up?"
- "I didn't know the aioli would have garlic in it"
- (on a day when we were giving away FREE burgers and dogs as part of a promotion) "um, don't you have any chicken?"
and my all time favorite... one in heavy rotation:
- "We're in a real big hurry. Our flight leaves in 30 minutes, so could you have them hurry that up?"
I particularly like that last one because I've never worked in a restaurant that's even remotely close to the airport. They're just trying to bullshit their way into getting preferential treatment. Even if they really have a flight in 30 minutes, fuck them for not planning this thing out better.
Please pardon my attitude. I'll be in a much better mood soon.
Wilco Being There